


How in the World Can the Winter Fall Apart?

by CentellaWrites



Series: The Rick and Lucy Saga [6]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Ex-wife character (Rick and Morty), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Insomnia, Intrusive Thoughts, Late at Night, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleep Deprivation, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, These folks are definitely not for each other and it shows, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Watching Someone Sleep, Young Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CentellaWrites/pseuds/CentellaWrites
Summary: Originally written November 2015It's winter and Lucy invites Rick to stay the night. When she finds out how long he's been sleep deprived, she grows even more worried.How should she respond and talk to a man who's literally impossible to talk to? How can she stop these intrusive thoughts that everything that's wrong with him is her fault?And how can he accept the kind of relationship he's in right now?
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Rick and Lucy Saga [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782028
Kudos: 4





	How in the World Can the Winter Fall Apart?

**Author's Note:**

> "Finally, some good fucking fluff."
> 
> Except it's still emotionally gut-wrenching and filled with beautifully racing thoughts about a very dysfunctional relationship, and neither of them talk to each other honestly about it. So yay. Fun.
> 
> Also there's a lot of sleeping in this fic. In a lot of my fics, especially shippy fics, I will have a lot of sleeping together / watching the other sleep scenes. It's one of the only times when you can just "be" with the other person. And in a dysfunctional relationship, it can truly be a vulnerable moment of reflection. There's also something I was really into about really powerful and gruff characters being in such a position of powerlessness.

A whip of wind burst through Lucy’s front door, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Flurries of snow left a small dust pile on the ground and lingering flakes twirled in mini tornadoes.

“Oh, shit!” Lucy shouted, immediately getting up from her comfy seated position on the couch, legs entangled in whatever the equivalent was of an after-sex cuddle with Rick.

“You know, I-I-I-I could fi*BURP*x that door for ya,” Rick stated with a raised eyebrow, a glass of Southern Comfort eggnog wedged between his fingers.

Lucy struggled closing the door against the immense wind, more flakes zooming in and condensing on her clean wood floor. “No, no, no need!” Lucy insisted, pushing her entire weight against the door. It slammed nicely, but the wind still whistled underneath the crack.

Rick cocked his head down and raised his other eyebrow. “Seriously, it’s like … not even a problem. Just a small door hinge repair.”

“Oh, right,” Lucy said, swishing her hand through her sweaty hair and wandering back to the couch. “ ‘It’s just a little switch!’ ” She held up her hand like she was hammering something. “BOOM. Now I got a sentient door handle that eviscerates people in the event that they ring the doorbell and they’re neither me nor you.”

“Pshhh,” Rick spat. “Details, details. Who says that wouldn’t be the best door ever, babe? At least you’d never get robbed, right?”

“You’re not touching my door. I’ll just have a repairman come in.”

“Ugghhh, you’re killin’ me.” Rick laid his head back in frustration. “Seriously? You’d take those guys over me?”

“When it comes to fixing my household items, yes.” Lucy sat herself back next to her boyfriend and snuggled up against his chest. “But everything else is where you fit in just fine …” She let her finger wander up to his jaw and brought his lips in for a small spitless peck.

Rick rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling through the kiss. “Alright, alright, you win a schmoozer award. But, uh, d-d-don’t think that’ll get you extra special brownie points down the road.” He unfolded his crossed legs, got up, and stretched. Then, he downed the eggnog and placed the glass on the coffee table. “Welp, I’mma head out ‘fore it gets too bad out there, babe. Not fun taking a taxi in a blizzard.”

“Um …” Lucy got up and looked out her living room window. Snow was completely obscuring any visuals from outside. The flakes were blowing violently sideways in the wind, and her window fogged completely from the heat in the room. “It … already looks pretty bad, Rick.”

“Naaah, that ain’t nothing. I-I-I-I’ve driven through space storms, Lucy. Space storms. Y-y-y-you ever driven through a space storm before? I-i-it’s like that movie, uh … you know, that movie with, uh …”

“I … don’t think space storms are a very popular movie topic. I mean, how would you even film that? It’d be absolutely impossible.” Lucy reached down and grabbed the empty eggnog glass.

“Point is, I’ve seen a lotta stuff. This? I wouldn’t even bre*BURP*ak a sweat.”

“Even so, your sweat would freeze, Rick. And you’re not driving, you just said you’d take a taxi!”

“W-w-whatever! Jeeze, this isn’t the first time Muskegon's seen a blizzard, you know.” He had already gotten his coat and scarf on. Lucy could have sworn he cared about his hair too much to not wear a hat, but there was none in sight. His confidence was at a high. As he put his hand on the doorknob, he sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Ooh, you getting a cold, babe?”

“What, just ‘cause I got dust up my nose I suddenly got a cold now? A-a-and colds don’t come from the cold, Lucy, they come from people with colds.” He sniffed again, further reinforcing his denial. “Unless I need to remind you again that you dropped biology?”

Lucy pouted, but a smile of endearment was spreading on her face. Rick smirked and reached for the door, and it slammed open again, this time hitting the side wall. “Jesus!” he shouted, losing all attempts at trying to act unfazed.

His girlfriend rushed over, waving the snow fumes out of the way and squinting her eyes in the brisk air. Both their efforts were almost not enough to click the door back into place.

“You know what?” Lucy said, still waving the flakes out of her face.

“Ugh,” Rick groaned, knowing what was coming.

“You fall asleep here sometimes, but you never stay. You’re usually gone when I wake up.”

Rick shrugged, his eyes growing a bit more nervous. “Yeah, so?”

“So,” Lucy droned, leaning closer into him. “You should spend the night! Like, actually this time.” She ruffled the edges of the hood on his coat.

“It’s fine out there, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Rick, it just took both of our strength collectively to get that door shut.”

“So? W-w-w-we’re weaklings, Lucy, it’s in our genes.”

“C’mon, honey!” she insisted, a little annoyed but even more anticipatory. “You’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow. And I am not letting you risk your cold by getting smacked in the face by the wind.” With a sly grin and another finger to his jawline, she added, “That’s my job.”

Rick smirked again. “You dirty bitch.” He sighed. “Alright, fuck it, whatever.” He slid the coat off his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

Lucy lay another peck on his cheek and helped him out of the oversized protection. While placing it up on her coat rack, she said, “We’ve never spent the whole night together, have we?”

“Y-y-yeah, I, uh …no ...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“This is good for us!” she said, bubble in her tone.

He shrugged.

She cocked her head in his direction, another endearing smile on her face. Awkward silence filled the room. The nerves in Rick’s eyes grew even more.

“... well.” Lucy twiddled her fingers.

Rick spit a bit through his lips, attempting to fill the uncomfortable space with something.

“W-w-when you do you usually go to bed? It’s like midnight, right?”

“Um …” Rick looked at the watch on his wrist absent mindedly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Later?”

Silence.

“Earlier?”

Rick kicked some of the water on the wood floor.

“Not at all?” Lucy joked, trying to laugh the silence off. She just wanted them to sleep together, was this so much to ask?

“Um … I plead the latter?” He continued rubbing his neck and shrugged.

Lucy suddenly donned a coddling expression. “What? Aww, Rick …”

“I-i-i-it’s nothing I can’t handle, babe, alright?”

“No, seriously, that’s terrible, honey!” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You know insomnia can cause hallucinations and brain defects?”

“Yes, I am very aware of that, ‘Mom’,” he said through rolled eyes, then he lightly pushed her off and folded his arms. “I would control it if I could! Not my fault I got no headspace and my neurons are, you know ... constantly on speed.”

Lucy couldn’t help but caress his face, causing him to twitch and grimace slightly. “Damn …” she said when she thumbed the dark sensitive skin under his eyes. “I never noticed, honey. I should have … done something when … I was studying psychology …” She looked off to the side, lost in a sudden familiar resurgence of guilt. Her stomach went a bit weak.

“Th-th-that’s stupid, Lucy, it ain’t your fault.” He pried her arms away from his face. “Now, can we just get this over with? If I’m gonna be sitting and doing nothing for 8 hours, I-I-I-I’d like to be in someplace less damp …” He looked down and kicked the puddles on the floor around a bit. “Although, you know … if it’s your bedroom we’re talking about -”

His snicker was cut off by Lucy giving a slap to the arm.

* * * *

Rick had special powers. Somehow with his level of maddening psychologically scarring intelligence and philosophical cynicism, even with his numerous drug addictions, even with his constant exposure to dangerous chemicals by choice or by force, he was able to maintain enough physical health to function.

Lucy studied psychology for years. Years. And she still couldn’t figure him out.

In a way, that’s what fascinated her so much about him. It wasn’t necessarily the only reason she had for being drawn to him; hell, she couldn’t pinpoint that particular reason if there was one. But only when in the quietness of her bedroom, submerged in darkness, alone, cocooned in her familiar covers, was she a slave to this overthinking.

She felt experienced enough to self-diagnose mild anxiety, but she wasn’t a victim to the hypnogogic logic bombs that people like Rick must be having every single second of their life until cripplingly quiet nighttime hit. She’d stare at the ceiling, first thinking about what she had for dinner that evening, and end up falling asleep thinking about life and all its failures.

If Rick were the main thing on the brain that day, she’d wonder how she ended up in the situation she was in, in love with a brilliantly sociopathic mad scientist who was quite literally mad. She learned both more and less about him everyday she spent with him, that was never going to change. And this was one of those nights.

She was tired enough to not get up, but not tired enough to pass out yet. This entailed laying motionless in her soft covers, on the right side of the bed as usual, darting her nervous eyes around the opaque room. Her eyelids were heavy enough to sit halfway, but not heavy enough to fall. Was it her fault for her boyfriend’s mental state? _Obviously not. Why would that even remotely be the case? Except, why wouldn’t it? It’s possible, right? But it’s not. Still. You never know. She ignored it for all these years, just like she thought she would. What’s stopping her ignoring it in the future? ___

__Suddenly, the door to her room slid open. She was startled out of her head game, and her heartbeat echoed in her temples, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t feel like lifting her head to confront Rick, stumbling into the room through the dim hallway nightlight. She just lay observantly still, acting more or less asleep. She felt like a kid again, acting asleep when her parents would walk into the room because she didn’t want to talk to them, even at the ripe age of 7._ _

__Rick was sniffling and sounding congested again, despite his efforts. Whether or not he noticed she was faking sleep didn’t matter; he had a hard time admitting things to himself, much less to other people. She listened to him sigh, deep frustration in his voice, the type that appears when one tries desperately to grasp the sleep that the brain won’t allow. She heard him saunter into the room, trying to hold in a burp, apparently worried he’d wake her up. He sat on the edge of the bed, a small liquid sound sloshing around his hand, obviously from a bottle. He occasionally stimulated sleep with a depressant, and from the sound of the bottle, it was a big but somehow still ineffective one._ _

__He took intermittent sips, gulping with a good amount of discomfort. Lucy remembered how much he hated the taste, he must have been desperate. Silence filled the room, save for the steady rumblings in his acidic stomach. After a couple painfully slow minutes, he let out a prolonged groan. “C’mooon,” he said, his voice low. He whispered something inaudible to the bottle. He rubbed one of his hands through his spikey hair._ _

__Lucy’s eyes were still somewhat wide but started lazily scanning the room again. The sleepy glow from the hallway illuminated a couple corners, but she still couldn’t see much._ _

__Rick let out a long sigh and finally placed the bottle on the night stand and sprawled himself on the bed. Lucy let herself imagine; he was probably shirtless with his Saturn PJ bottoms again. Her mind drifted to a more relaxing presence, interestingly enough. The closer she felt to him, the more at ease her nerves became. She’d felt this way around him before, as was usual for a long term intimacy, but never expected to grow this tired so quickly. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she was under in a matter of seconds._ _

__* * * *_ _

__Uncomfortable silence dominated the room for a good hour or two, Rick staring aimlessly at the ceiling, his sleep-deprived eyes creating halos around every source of light in his field of vision. He turned his head over to Lucy, who’d been asleep the whole time. The small pudgy arch in her back moved rhythmically with her breathing, and she had her hands encased by her chin, the covers in slowly relaxing death grips. She always left an inordinate amount of space and covers for Rick, even when unconscious._ _

__He took that advantage and pulled the covers up to his waist, but stopped when she suddenly shifted. She felt the covers moving, and her semi-conscious form moved along with them, shoving covers off herself and pushing them to Rick. She didn’t have to open her eyes to do that. She made a nasally noise and her throat clicked open. She started breathing heavily through an open mouth._ _

__Rick’s eyes wandered all across her form and lingered on her hands gripping the sheets. He finally settled into the bed “comfortably” and moved closer to her. He observed her move responsively again, scooting away from him to leave room._ _

__Rick rolled his eyes. It was almost pathetic, but a twinge in his stomach confused it for endearing with a hint of worry. He encased one of his arms around her waist while forming a crook beneath his head with his other. He pulled her in close, and she moved with him, ready to subconsciously cuddle against his form. She was lost in exhaustion, and instead resolved to lay on her back, her mouth falling open again. She regained her homeostasis of gripping the covers with the hand facing Rick and finally relaxed to some degree. There was always a tension in her face, but Rick was surprised to notice that, even in sleep, she was less vexed than usual in his presence_ _

__He rested his temples against the elbow pillow he made himself and exhaled, shaking his head. Despite the slight buzz, exhaustion just wouldn’t hit. It wasn’t hard enough liquor. He sniffed in a pouty manner. Maybe it was just the oncoming cold. The arm he had wrapped around Lucy’s waist moved rhythmically with her steady heavy breaths. He moved that thumb up and down the creases in her loose T-shirt, lightly trailing some sweat from her soft skin. Her bangs hung lazily across her closed eyelids, some stuck to her forehead from more cold sweat._ _

__Usually, Rick’s urge to cuddle would be suppressed by an immediate internal rejection, before anyone else could. Because God knows experience told him that’s the way to do it. But right now, in this moment, when he was both fighting sleep because of fear and fighting insomnia because of insanity, he felt like his entire body could just replace her covers. Her hands would be gripping lovingly on his head or hair, using him to protect her in her vulnerability. Her arms would encase his arms or shoulders or waist and bring him close, letting him feel the comforting pulse of her heavy noisy breathing. Some paranoia in the back of his mind told him she liked to do the same, watch him sleep like this, because it seldom happened. It was like seeing a rare movie. He could only imagine she’d feel the same as he did right now, ready to just wrap himself around her like a blanket._ _

__He didn’t though. Another wave of anxiety hit and he bolted upright after five minutes of listening to her snore softly. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself and ran his nervous hands through his unkempt hair again. After unwrapping his arms from her waist, she inhaled quickly in her sleep and shifted to her left side, again attempting to give him more covers. She gripped the bunch by her chin and held it tightly before nodding off again. She continued snoring lightly through her nose, not even loud enough to drown out the clock ticking in the room._ _

__He was trying so hard, he couldn’t be trying harder. But sleep was impossible right now. He turned to his girlfriend again, envying her relaxed face. Though, in all honesty, she needed this. Her nerves never gave her a moment of social peace, and this particular night was allowing her relaxation neither of them thought possible. He was so torn, but she was perfectly unaware of his emotions, and he could have just sat there and stared at her with a blissful expression for the rest of the night, thanking whatever forces that be for the opportunity to spend a night with his girlfriend and witness her comfort around him, of all people, around him. Blessing? In disguise no doubt. Everything was a bitch in sheep’s clothing._ _

__Couldn’t that paranoia leave for a moment? Why couldn’t a moment of peace be nothing but exactly that? Could the brain activity just shut up for one second, the over-thinking just shut down altogether? The ability to think doesn’t even need to be the default. He would rather be brain dead than live in this hallucinogenic state, suspended in a tension with no release._ _

__Frustrated, he retreated from the bed again, tossing the covers aside. Now would be the perfect opportunity to fix her door hinge._ _

__* * * *_ _

__Morning rushed in, drenching Lucy’s room in rich yellow. The snow settled overnight, over a foot as usual._ _

__With a deep inhale, she slowly opened her eyes. The clock on the wall read 7:12 am. Another night of less-than-adequate sleep. Then, happily, the memory of Rick staying over flooded back to her and, with a stretch, she turned to her left side._ _

__She was legitimately surprised. Rick was actually asleep. Not only that, but he was deep in REM._ _

__The night’s prediction proved correct, he was shirtless with his Saturn bottoms on. His left leg was hanging off the side of the bed, the covers bunched by his feet. He was on his back with his head off to the side, one hand cupped by the side of his cheek, the other in a half-fist on his rising and falling belly. The pillow was littered with drool stains. At a still early 7 months into their relationship, Lucy really hadn’t seen him like this, never witnessed this full-on vulnerability. He looked so different; the permanent half-lidded grimace replaced with a docile, almost baby-faced, open-mouth expression. She blushed and snickered._ _

__His eyelids twitched, the eyes beneath them moving back and forth. His breathing was heavy and unsettlingly spasmodic but still soft, signifying the chaotic dream he must have been having. His thin fingers looked delicate at rest, the tips also twitching occasionally. The half-fist on his stomach became a whole and his eyes squinted, a mild amount of wincing pain in his face._ _

__The calming sunlight flooded into the room, creating a sort of glowing halo around his form. Lucy noticed he had been sweating. She sat for an observant couple minutes, not ready to get up yet, instead just loving the sight of her twitching sleeping boyfriend in front of her._ _

__Rick’s breathing quickened and the twitching got worse. She heard his throat clench, and a small whimper escaped. Worry flooded her face immediately and unexpectedly. After a minute, he gasped and his eyelids shot open._ _

__Not even hiding that she was watching him, she moved in closer and placed a hand on his perspiring face. “Whoah, honey, you okay?” she asked, her voice hoarse from waking up._ _

__He was breathing rapidly and darting his eyes back and forth, but without saying a word, his expression went from slight shock, to flushed embarrassment, to sneering annoyance in a matter of seconds. He pushed her hand away and tossed himself sloppily to his side, grabbing the covers again. He curled into a ball of sorts and somehow relaxed angrily._ _

__Lucy paused. The hand that was on his face lay frozen in mid air. She gritted her teeth and donned an expression of embarrassment and uncertainty. Another light and familiar pain forming in the pit of her stomach, she pulled her covers up to her chest again and lay on her back, biting her lip._ _

__Another few uneasy minutes passed, but Rick seemed to fall back asleep somehow. While worriness was lingering, Lucy managed to calm down a bit. She still lay frozen in place._ _

__Rick inhaled deeply and exhaled through a long fry moan in his deeper register. He was hunched over, his shoulders up to his ears, so his face and neck were squashed against the pillow and restricting his airway. He continued moaning upon exhale for a minute at a time, constantly stopping to change position in what looked like very unsuccessful searches for comfort. He settled on his right side, facing the lazy Lucy, and tucked his head onto the crook of his right elbow. He cupped his left hand by his chest. He let out a soft breathy mumble before attempting to relax the muscles in his face finally._ _

__Just as Rick had desired earlier when he was in her position, Lucy was encompassed in a yearn to cuddle the shit out of him. Although knowing him to be a lighter sleeper than a watchdog, she often acted on it, unlike him. She leaned in closer to his sleeping form and reached for his cupped hand. She slowly took his fingers between hers, making absolutely sure he wouldn’t stir. He started snoring through his congestion, slightly louder than her but not by much, and continued moaning through the exhales, almost as if he was about to wake up at any second. Lucy lowered her smiling mouth and pressed light kisses on his fingertips. She tasted a subtle hint of metal, slightly confused but still lost in a loving bliss. A considerable amount of drool formed at the right corner of his mouth and streamed down across his tricep, wetting a once-dry spot on the pillow. She held his hand a bit tighter and raised her lips to his forehead, leaving a dry peck. His eyebrows twitched and he moaned again, withdrawing his fingers from hers and shifting his position. He unconsciously used the back of that same hand to try and wipe the drool from his face but fell back asleep before he could finish and the rest just slid down the side of his cheek. He relaxed in this lethargic ragdoll position, sniffed, and began to snore again._ _

__Lucy laid another small peck to his forehead, whispered a breathy, “I love you,” and got up from the bed. The cold wooden floor hit her bare feet like needles. “Shit,” she giggled nervously. She grabbed her small bathrobe off the vanity and pulled it over her oversized T-shirt and short shorts._ _

__She wandered down the stairs, stopping at her front door. Despite still shivering, she opened it. Just as she suspected, the bastard went behind her sleeping back and fixed the door hinge. An ear-to-ear smile spread across her face and she looked back up the direction of the stairs to her room. “Goddammit, Rick,” she muttered. She waltzed into the kitchen, looking forward to making him a “thank you” breakfast._ _


End file.
